Lessons in Life
by Koriat Cyredanthem
Summary: The four turtles find two strange mutants in an alley - and there are more where these two came from. It will take patience and understanding to reconcile the groups' differences. And sometimes, it will take love of a kind the new family members have never seen. Rated M for adult themes and language.
1. Chapter 1

_I don't even know why, but this story has just flooded my consciousness in the last few days and I've neglected sleep to bring up the first 30,000 words or so. So I want to share and see what everyone thinks. Rated M for adult themes and languages. Please read and review!_

 **Chapter 1: First Impressions**

 _Titania's POV_

The concrete is cold beneath my cheek; it wakes me. I sit up, tucking my legs underneath me to warm up. The ache in my groin tells me that I was recently taken; not surprising. But finding myself thrown onto the streets _is_ surprising. Had Master tired of me? But then I would be dead, so unless this is some version of the afterlife, I am alive.

Lifting my hand to my throbbing forehead, I smell blood – not my own. I sniff under my claws; it's lodged there. I lick my hand carefully, grooming down the fur, and then wash my face in case there is more blood there. My grey face fur is not stained badly, though my white hand fur is streaked a bit; a few passes does the trick. I wash the other hand, smelling and tasting a human's blood under those claws as well.

 _I scratched a John_ , I think to myself, trying to piece together what might have happened. Master must have sent me to a room to entertain a guest; I must have fought him, for some reason. Oberon would have rescued the John and shaken me; that is why I feel bruised. Usually, however, I would have woken in my cage after such an incident; I had done it often before realizing the futility.

 _What's different now?_ I ask myself as I lean over to wash my side, gently nibbling the fur where a few scratches have bloodied the strands of hair and matted them. My own blood is a familiar taste; I cough out some hairs and spit them to the side.

"You okay?"

Oberon's voice makes my fur stand on end and I arch my back, hissing automatically, ears flattened to my head. I take a deep breath and find him crouched in the shadows, his shaggy, matted brown fur blending into the darkness. He's almost twice my size and used to scare me.

"Fine," I answer shortly, curling my tail around my legs and smoothing down my fur with both hands.

Oberon tilts his head slightly. He's not the brightest – Master bred him for loyalty and guardianship, not for intelligence. I, however, was bred to be pleasing, including in conversation. The very tip of my tail ticks back and forth; I don't mind.

Oberon waves his docked tail once, indicating his pleasure than I am alright. This is confusing; usually he stays away from my sisters and I unless he had to subdue one of us or was permitted some pleasure of our bodies by Master. My confusion is evident and he cocks his head to one side, short ears perked stiffly up.

"Don't you remem- remember?" he asks, long tongue tripping his words up. He doesn't speak much and his tongue gets in his way.

"Remember what?" I ask stiffly.

"We es-thaped. You showed me." His long tongue licks up drool from his chops; I shudder at the saliva, remembering it falling onto my back fur when he took me in front of our Master for his amusement. It had taken hours to feel moderately clean again.

I think back, nodding blankly to myself. Oberon and I had been talking about escaping; using my wit, charms, and amble physical pleasures, I had seduced him into league with me and my sisters. But looking around, I could not find them with us.

"What about Hermia, Hippolyta, and Aemilia?" I ask sharply.

Oberon whines and lowers his head submissively, mouth opening in a placating gesture. I put back my ears and hiss, demanding an answer. "They were locked up and we didn't have time," he responds slowly, ears flattened in defensiveness and deference.

"We have to go back for them." I stand, coiling my tail around one ankle so that it resembles an anklet, its white tip still ticking maddeningly. I still it consciously.

Oberon stands, keeping his head lowered to protect his throat as if I was going to attack him. He nervously licks his nose, indicating his wish to apologize and to repair our relationship. "We can't, we'd die," he says quietly.

I bare my fangs, tail raising and ears pinned back, showing my anger in voice and body. "They're my sisters. We're going back."

Oberon whines again, tucking his tail down between his legs. It's too short to really do anything, but the gesture is all that matters. He knows I am the boss around here, but he still doesn't like the idea.

I take a moment to smooth down my front fur, briskly wiping more of my own blood from my middle left breast. The cut there is shallow; now that I inspect it, I realize it is too clean a cut to have come from Oberon's sharp dog claws. My own perfectly manicured cat claws, however, could have done it.

Looking around, I realize I have no idea where we are. In an alley, yes; but where?

 _Leo's POV_

My brothers and I run through the crisp air. There's a chill to it that means fall isn't far off and we'll soon have to make shorter and shorter runs, despite the longer nights. We freeze, otherwise, and can even slip into pre-hibernation cycles, though no one has yet fully hibernated. With the Foot defeated, however, there is not much work to be done anyway. We put down the occasional gang event or single robber up to no good; more and more often, we would explore the city as we never had before.

Some nights, we watch movies at the theater from the rafters and snag huge, greasy garbage bags of popcorn from the trash after the theater closed for the night, stashing them on the rooftop to eat over the next week or so. Mikey always manages to put away more than his share of it than anyone else; I suspect he is building a layer of fat as a result. I should up his training.

Once, we had found a wandering child and dropped her off in front of the nearest police station. She had told the officers about the guardian angels who had saved her – though they explained that angels were humans with wings, not bipedal turtles with brightly colored masks. Mikey still occasionally calls me "Weo."

Sometimes we find someone in need of help that we can provide. Taken from the bodies of gang members, drug lords, and the occasional robber, a bit of money might find itself into a single mother's purse one night. It might show up in a homeless man's cup when he wakes the next morning. After an earthquake made several neighborhoods in our side of town fall down, we had spent many nights repairing walls, roofs, furniture, and appliances; Don worked on the latter while Mikey, Raph, and I worked on the former. Doing such good deeds made us all happy, even if Raph sometimes grumped about spending all night waiting for Don to finish patching this and that.

A strange scent catches my attention and I slow, jogging towards an alley to follow it. My brothers catch the same scent and follow. Raph sniffs several times and sneezes the air back out, shaking his head. "Does that smell like a cat to anyone else?" he asks quietly.

"Yeah, but… different," Mikey agrees. "Like… Spicy? Is that a scent?"

"I think it's a taste," Don replies.

"Don't you taste with your nose anyway?" Mike sniffs again. "Cinnamon. It smells like cinnamon candies."

Don raises an eyeridge and rolls his eyes. "Your nose helps with taste, Mike, but taste buds are located on your tongue. You could eat an onion and think it was an apple if your nose was plugged."

"I wanna try that," the youngest exclaims.

"Concentrate," I scold, peering into the alleyway from which the scent comes. Another scent, harder to detect, is woven in with it; this one is of dirt, unwashed hair, and, faintly, blood. I dislike the smell but it's unmistakable.

"Hello?" Mike calls down into the alleyway.

Raph smacks him upside the head. "Warn 'em, why don'tcha?" he growls. I shake my head, too, and jump down into the alley to investigate.

There's a low growl from my left and something big, furred, and heavy hits me in the side. I grab the first thing I can – one of its limbs – as my shell whacks into a dumpster. The creature barks, much like a dog; I bring my fist down into its body and it yelps.

"Leo!" Raph snarls and jumps down, grabbing the animal and pulling it off by the fur; the creature whines in pain and wiggles, trying to get loose. I stand up; my shell hurts a little but it's only a bruise. Raph is holding it down firmly; though it's bigger than him, he's stronger.

Don and Mike had followed Raph and are standing next to me as we try to see what Raph is holding. It's twisting too fast for a good look, but it's definitely got thick, matted fur, a bobbed tail, four limbs, and claws. I can feel a scratch on my plastron from the attack; it's not very deep.

"Oberon, down!" a female voice hisses from the shadows. The creature stops moving and lets Raph force him onto the concrete, whining in pain. Raph releases it and rejoins us; the being sorts itself out until it is crouched on four legs, thick fur obscuring its face, which I assume is on the end facing us. Its tail is erect and stiff, only three inches long at the most. It shakes out its fur, growling under its breath; it rears onto its back paws, balancing on two legs like a human, and all three of us facing it gasp simultaneously.

The creature has short brown fur around its human-like face with a protruding jaw, lips thrust forward into a half-muzzle. His lips are pulled back, revealing sharp canines and a pair of short fangs. His brown eyes are wary and untrusting and his nose is mostly human-looking, though darker than the rest of his face. His belly fur is longer than the fur on his face and arms, shaggy and matted with dirt, leaves, and mud. His arms are to his side by his elbows are bent, ready to grab anything that comes for him. Standing, he is almost a foot taller than Raph and me. He is most certainly male; the fur thins around his privates, revealing a dog-like sheathed penis. He's completely naked and I unconsciously tuck my tail up tighter to make sure I am not revealed.

Another creature steps up to his left and this one, too, shocks us all. She – her six small breasts down her belly mark her as female – has mostly grey fur, though it is carefully groomed and gleams in the soft light coming from a street lamp at the entry to the alley. Her fur is white around her mouth and down her neck until just between her first pair of breasts, on her hands, and down her hind legs on which she balances primly. Her left leg is white-furred half-way up the thigh; her right is only white to the knee. The fur is standing on end from either fear or anger. Around her mouth and nose are longer white whiskers. Her ears stand erect on the top of her head, surrounded by the longest hair on her body. The tips of her ears barely reach the dog-man's chest; she's probably around five feet tall. Her eyes are a piercing yellow with slit pupils. She reminds me of a cat as she sniffs at us, long tail swaying side to side behind her and the white tip of it ticking quickly.

"Um… Wow…" Mike whistles. His eyes are stuck on the cat-lady's breasts; she bares her fangs at him, ears flattening.

"Mikey, manners!" Don snaps, cuffing the youngest; he's blushing terribly himself and can't seem to look up from the pavement.

"Hi," I say, keeping my gaze carefully on the cat-woman's eyes. She meets my eyes and lowers her lips over her fangs, though her ears are still pinned back. "I'm Leo."

She looks me over coolly, gaze lingering on my weapons and mask. The dog-man next to her slowly lets his ears rise from their flattened position, though he keeps a careful eye on Raph. Like Mike, the hothead is ogling the cat-woman.

"I am Titania," the cat-woman finally replies, meeting my eyes again. Her gaze is fierce, challenging. She gestures quickly to her companion. "This is Oberon." Her voice is cultured and has a faint English accent, with a husky undertone that some part of me really likes. I can tell it has the same effect on my brothers; even Don glances up at the sound of her voice.

"These are my brothers. Raph, Don, and Mike. It's nice to meet you," I say politely. I offer my hand, keeping my movements slow. I would hate to have the dog-man bite me.

Titania looks at my hand for a moment, then back in my eyes, and finally reaches out just as slowly. Her hand is warm and soft; the fur feels like velvet as I gently close my hand around hers and shake it carefully. She flexes her hand and claws emerge from the fur of her fingertips, but they rest on my wrist without scratching. We both withdraw our hands slowly.

"If you don't mind my asking…" Don interrupts, blushing when the cat-woman looks at him and firmly staring at the ground still, "what are you?"

She looks at him as if he is simple, though he misses the expression since the concrete between his toes seems so fascinating. Mikey is still staring at the woman's breasts despite the earlier warning. "I am a pleasurer," she responds finally, one ear softening. Her tail slows down its waving, though the end is still ticking away rapidly. After a moment, Titania winds the tip of her tail around her ankle. "Oberon is my… guardian." With a goofy grin, Oberon opens his mouth and a long tongue slips out, wagging and slobbering against his chin. His tail has relaxed down and his ears are erect, interested. He seems friendly, apparently forgetting that he had attacked me moments ago.

I glance at Raph, who looks at me and raises an eyeridge expressively. His arms are crossed and he is glowering at the dog, though stealing appreciative glances at the cat-woman. I can't really blame him; she is sexy on a level none of us have seen before. And she isn't screaming and running away, which makes even the sexiest human rather hard to appreciate.

 _Oberon's POV_

Titania's tail slows down and I relax, grinning. I've never met a turtle before; now I'm meeting four. They smell weird, weirder than humans. And they're a little taller than Hermia; the two tallest are about one of Master's feet shorter than me. They're all wearing things – brown cloth around their waists, knees, and elbows.

The blue one, Leo, seems to be the leader. He has two things sticking up from his back; they look like metal wrapped in leather. I like chewing leather. It's hard to tell in the dark, but his hide is some medium shade of green, like grass, and his chest is dark yellow, like pee. I like grass. He smells like mint and green tea, which Master's youngest daughter likes to drink. She used to think I was a good boy until Master took me away from her so he could make me into what I am now. I don't know where she is; I wish she would scratch my belly again, making my leg thump. That was back when I walked on all fours.

The red one, Raph, he was the one who grabbed me. It had hurt and I had tried to bite him, but his hands had been on my scruffy upper back fur and there hadn't been much I could do to get at him. Still, I was supposed to protect Titania, so I had tried, I really had. He's got metal things in his belt, two of them; they look like weird forks. I'm hungry; I wonder if they have food and will share. His skin is darker than Leo's but his hard chest part is lighter yellow, like Titania's eyes. He smells like human sweat and oil, or grease, or something mechanical. I sniff in his direction but I can't figure out what that smell reminds me of.

Mike is watching Titania as though she is working the pole. His eyes follow first her upper breasts, then her middle, then her lower – and then back up. His grin is nearly as goofy as mine, but he isn't drooling. His skin is lighter green than the other three; his front is a dark yellow, almost brownish. He smells like that green soap Master likes. I like the wood things stuck in his belt. I wonder if he'll let me chew on them. Maybe if I'm a really good boy.

The last, Don, is staring at the ground. I wonder what's so interesting about it and try to look where his eyes are pointed. It only looks like regular concrete. Sometimes I don't understand things, but that's okay. I'm sure he's looking at something important. He's got a long wood stick on his back; maybe I can chew that. He's not paying much attention; maybe I can take it. But Master taught me to ask before taking things to chew, so I won't take it. His skin is like the grass in my pee spot, yellow-green, and his front is yellow like the metal some guests wear on their fingers or around their wrists. He smells like coffee. I like coffee. Master sometimes lets me have some in my treat bowl in the morning, especially if we had a lot of johns through the night before. I like it with cream, which sometimes Titania will give me if I beg nicely.

Titania is really nice to me. I love Master, I really do. But I really like Titania, too. When she had started talking about leaving, I had whined. I like the way Master would pat my head when I had been a good boy. I like it when he lets me have one of the cats for being a good boy. But she has shown me that he isn't always nice to me, especially when I am a bad boy. Sometimes, I make him mad, and her kicks or hits me and makes me walk around awkwardly on my hands and legs like I had before he had taken me away from his daughter. If I am a really bad boy, he puts a sharp collar around my neck and leaves me in a tiny room without food or water. Even my loudest howls and whining and begging are ignored when I am a very bad boy.

But Titania has never hurt me. I know that she had obeyed Master and only let me have her because he told her to. But she had made it nice. She told me I was a good boy, had let me chew up a wonderful bone filled with delicious treats. She always has something for me when I take her to her room – cream, a treat, a piece of wood to work on. We can't play fetch in her small room where she works, but she rubs my tummy. And even when Master didn't tell her to, sometimes she makes me feel very happy and let me take her.

The only thing I don't like is bath time. I always know when it is coming, too; Titania's nose would be crinkled whenever around me. She would take me to the bathroom. I don't like getting washed, unless I'm drooling. Or maybe if I'm really thirsty and splash a little when drinking. Or if it's very hot and Master lets me stand in the sprinklers on the grass. But she keeps telling me how good a boy I am, so I let her wash me and comb my fur even though the tugging hurts and I smell like her for days afterwards. Master doesn't mind when she cleans me, but he also doesn't mind when I'm not clean. If something bugs me and I scratch it too much, he'll cut off the patch of fur; otherwise, we don't really care.

I wonder if Titania likes the smells on the turtles as much as I do. She walks towards the leader and I wait. She always does things her own way, in her own time; only Master can make her hurry up. She calls the turtles "terra pins," but I don't think they're like the white things Master sometimes knocks down with a big heavy ball. I can't chew on those, either, and the ball is too heavy and big to play fetch with. Not that I want to chew on the turtles. But maybe they have guard dogs where they work and carry those sticks for us.

 _Mike's POV_

God _damn_ , this chick is hot! She's a little thinner than I like; some good food would plump her – and her breasts – right up. I like a chick with meat on her bones. Maybe she likes post-closing popcorn. God knows we can find enough of that deliciousness.

Leo glances at me as if he can read my mind; I grin sheepishly. I can't help it! I'm a young man! I have needs! I can just imagine he's mentally preparing a lecture for me, too. I just couldn't help it. Who knew six breasts were better than two, even if they are almost flat? My tail is tucked firmly up, though; despite this chick's beauty, there's still a huge question here.

Who is she? Where did she come from? What do we do with her – and her dog-man pal?

Okay, maybe there's more than one question here. I'm sure Don has about a thousand of them already, and he's been staring at the concrete like a lunatic. We don't often get to see beautiful women – or mutant women, take your pick. Enjoy it when it happens, bro!

Besides, she didn't seem to mind my appreciation. And it isn't ogling, Leo, it's appreciation! Like a fine art! No one stares at the ground in front of the Mona Lisa.

I bet her fur is _really_ soft. Leo already got to touch it, lucky bastard. I want to shake her hand, too. And maybe rub her head; the fur there is longer and thicker. I wonder if she'd let me. My puppy dog eyes work on Leo, after all.

 _Leo's POV_

"I did not know Master had made terrapin guards as well," the cat-woman says quietly. She steps primly forward, moving gracefully. Her hips sway in a mesmerizing manner but I focus my full attention on her face as she approaches me. I hold still as she reaches forward and touches my plastron. I can faintly feel her index finger's claw tap against it.

"What Master?" Don asks curiously. He finally looks up, cheeks still dark green.

The cat-woman ignores his question and slides her hand around my plastron, feeling where it connects to my skin at my neck. She examines the junction between plates at my stomach. Her hand starts to slide lower and I quickly step back, uncomfortable. She bares her teeth in a mocking grin, yellow eyes amused. Oberon is still panting happily behind her.

Titania picks up my right hand and runs the pads of her hand over my hide; it is pebbly and hard, a sharp contrast to her soft fur and skin. She examines my blunt fingernails – I keep them clipped and rounded – and then wiggles my thumb in its socket. Don watches her examine me with a curious look on his face.

Without apparent modesty, she reaches up and pulls my head down to looks intently into my eyes. I let her, though her scent is quite powerful at such close quarters. I agree with Mikey; she smells like cinnamon candy, but underneath it is a weird scent that reminds me of musty warehouses and run-down homes.

Titania pulls my upper lip away from my teeth, raising an eyebrow at my thick, blunt teeth. I pull my head back, licking my teeth and wiggling my lips back over them. She walks around behind me; when I turn to follow, she stills me with a hand on my elbow and examines my shell. The cat-woman raps on it with her knuckles and then bends down to sniff it closely, looking closely at several scars on it.

"Hey!" I yelp when she tries to grab my tail, her hand brushing the lower lip of my shell. I jump away and spin to face her again. Oberon's friendly pant stops and his shoulder fur begins rising again. Titania stills him with a glance and his fur smooths back out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Back to Our Place**

 _Titania's POV_

The terrapin is certainly intriguing. The similarities in conformity seem to indicate that all four were created by the same formula, from the same base strain. I suspect they came from red-eared sliders; they are common pets, easy to acquire. I, of course, am a pure-bred British Shorthair. Sometimes I wish Master had created me from a Persian or Ragamuffin, though. Their fur is sleeker and I wouldn't really mind the extra grooming. I even wash Oberon when he reeks too badly to hide behind polite coughs.

They seem to be sensitive of their genitals, however. I smile at the turtle gently, rumbling softly in a way that pleases most Johns I take care of. It's almost like purring – though of course I won't do that. That is special, something I pretend not to be able to do. It seems to soothe his ruffled feathers, so to speak; he looks more confused than mad.

Perhaps, if these guards work in a base not devoted to sexual fantasies, I will request a transfer. Their Master will likely only beat me a bit, perhaps give me to his human guards for a while; I have survived worse. Especially if I bring Oberon with me, who is bigger and better-bred than these terrapins. Master has noticed how I have been seducing his guard pet away, but he cannot compare petting and all the "good boy" words in the world to what I can do. Oberon is wrapped around my little finger and I alone control his puppet strings.

First, though, I need to see these turtles' base, meet their Master, and explain my intentions. I am sure I can charm him. I have yet to meet a human I cannot turn to my side, woman, man, eunuch, or any of those confusing gender terms that have seemed to multiply in recent years.

 _Leo's POV_

"Master did not tell me of your existence," Titania says, ignoring my confusion as I securely tuck my tail down again. "Where is your base?"

I glance at Raph; while my jump amused him, he's just as confused by the question as I am. Don and Mikey can't offer any insight, either, when I glance at them; Don shrugs and Mikey grins foolishly. She can't possibly mean Splinter; the inflection in her tone indicates that "Master" is a name, not a title. Besides, our father and sensei would have told us about other mutants… And definitely wouldn't let them wander around naked. _At least,_ I correct myself, suddenly conscious of my own nakedness, _not if we had visible bits._

"Very well, then, where are we?" she asks, annoyance in her voice as we remain silent and unable to answer her first question.

"Uh… New York?" Mikey offers, grinning sheepishly. He meets her eyes, having ogled his fill of her breasts. I will have to remind him of his manners when we have figured out what to do with these two mutants.

She levels a damning look of contempt at him and he physically flinches from the strength of it, grin fading fast. "Clearly," she replies. "I should hope you can provide more precise coordinates than that."

"That's Greenpoint," Raph replies gruffly, gesturing at the street to the south. "An' it meets Van Dam three blocks that way." He points west.

 _Raph's POV_

That dog-man, Oberon, is literally drooling slobber down his chin and chest as Titania speaks to us. He doesn't look particularly bright, but at least he isn't trying to bite anyone. I have to ask Don if we're susceptible to rabies; there are some scratches on my legs and plastron from the dog-man's struggling.

But I'm trying to keep an eye on him – and his canines – while still appreciating that sexy-as-all-get-out cat-woman. I'm not really a breast man, though there are three times as many on this gal than on your average human. I'm more into hips, and _goddamn_ are hers gorgeous. Her waist is a little thin; I could probably wrap my hands around it and almost touch my fingers. Not that that is necessarily a bad thing, but judging from her ribs and flatter breasts, she needs a bit of feeding.

Both of them do, really. Oberon's ribs stick out even more prominently, though it's hard to tell under his thick, matted fur. I can tell why it's matted; he's drooling enough into it to make it very dirty. While Titania seems to take grooming herself seriously, this dog-man doesn't seem to pay much attention to how he looks. He idly scratches at one ear and then roughly shakes his head, ears flapping. I feel some spittle land on my arm and quickly wipe it away with a grimace.

 _Don's POV_

Both cat-woman and dog-man startle me as much as they do my brothers, but I cannot help my… natural instincts. Being raised around human TV and magazines and books, of course my brothers and I know what the perfect feminine form is believed to be. And this cat-woman comes very, very close – perhaps even surpassing my most intimate fantasies in some ways. I know Mike had been checking out her breasts this entire time; Raph has his eyes darting between her posterior and Oberon, trying to decide whether to keep an eye on the threat or on the hottest creature we've ever seen. I think Leo has more control over himself.

I, myself, am unapologetically attracted to hair. And this woman has a lot of it, and it looks absolutely gorgeous. Not that she doesn't, herself, but her fur is really, really… sexy. She obviously takes very good care of it, too, which is more than I can say for Oberon.

Of course, the scientist in me is wondering how these two came to be mutated. I want their life story – and DNA samples – and I want to have long talks with Titania. Oberon hasn't yet spoken, so I'm not sure if he is mute or what. His tongue is very slobbery, but his eyes are kind and friendly – now that we've gotten the introduction done.

I glance at Leo. "How about we get you somewhere safe. Are you hungry?" I ask, glancing at the thin mutants' ribs.

Titania smiles at me, and her teeth are beautiful. They are more rounded than I would have expected; either filed down or influenced by her human genetics. Her eyes are a brilliant yellow with flecks of brown; I feel like I could drown in them. I think that's what I feel, anyway; that's what I've read when people meet someone's eyes and feel like they're lost.

"Food," Oberon pants happily, licking his chops. Well, he can apparently speak. Perhaps not as well as Titania; his tongue flops around a little awkwardly for conversation.

"We would appreciate that," Titania adds, all grace. Master Splinter always taught us to be kind and courteous to women – at least until they prove themselves a threat, like Karai had before she fled to Japan. So I bow and offer her my arm. Despite my ninjutsu training, she makes me feel awkward and clumsy.

Titania looks a little surprised and glances down at my arm; then she smiles again, resting her palm on my forearm. Her fur is really soft; underneath the grey strands is a healthy pale pink skin. I can't even see any scars, making me conscious of my own and my brothers'.

"Oberon, come," she orders softly. The dog-man nods in agreement, woofing quietly. His stubby little tail looks like it's wagging. I help Titania up the ladder to the roof and she looks around as if she has never seen such a sight. Her careful mask slips and I can see the wonder and delight in her features before she catches me watching her and shutters her eyes, smiling languidly.

"Come on." Leo leads the way towards the lair. We go slowly, over an easy route; it's quite clear that these two are not used to jumping across streets and alleyways from several stories up. They also don't have a lot of stamina; both are panting within minutes. Noticing their difficulty, Leo slows to a sedate walk for a while. I distract Titania by pointing out famous landmarks, parks, and shops. She listens to me chatter inanely with patience and polite attention, but I feel as though it is a trained habit. I want to see the person behind her polite mask again.

 _Mike's POV_

Since Don snagged the chick (dammit!), I decide to hang out with the dude. I help him make the jumps and make sure he keeps up. His heavy fur smells, and he pants heavily, splattering drool on me if I get too close. But he lets me talk at him and is either listening or isn't; I don't really care either way.

We're behind Donnie and Titania, which means I have an excellent view of her rear as she jogs and then walks. The way her hips swell when she tenses for a jump is mesmerizing. Her tail remains tucked against her ankle, but I imagine reaching out and pulling it… just for fun.

We come to a sewer entrance and leap down into the alley. Don, Titania, and Oberon follow on the fire escapes. Titania has some trouble with her back paws; they resemble cat paws more than her hands do. Don, lucky bastard, gets to climb down in front of her and reach up to place her feet. I can tell he likes the feeling of her fur. He's always been a little crazy about hair. I think it's because we don't have any.

Once we're down, Leo and Raph pull up the sewer entrance. I catch surprise and disgust flash through Titania's face, but I blink and it's gone. Maybe I imagined it.

Oberon looks down the ladder and whines quietly; I pat him comfortingly. "It's not far," I tell him with a quick grin.

"We are not… fond… of the dark," Titania explains patiently. She smiles at me and her eyes are beautiful and I forget what I was going to say next. I don't even _think_ of teasing them like I would Raph or Leo or Donnie.

Raph, already in the sewers, clicks on his flashlight upon hearing her. Now she can see the ladder and allows Donnie to guide her onto it. This time, Raph gets to be the lucky turtle who positions her feet and steadies her when she steps down onto the maintenance walk that runs along this particular tunnel. Don hurries down after her, probably afraid our macho brother will steal her attention. That leaves me with Oberon, who is still whining under his breath.

"I wait here?" Oberon asks. I think he's asking me until I notice that he's looking down the hole. Titania answers briskly.

"Nonsense. We would be poor guests to spurn our hosts' offer of hospitality." Most of those words go over his head. "Come."

Oberon whines and paces back and forth once at the edge of the hole. Then he seems to make up his mind and jumps down.

 _Raph's POV_

The dog-man is acting like a wuss, but I actually don't mind since Titania is standing next to me, staying close to the source of light, while she speaks to him. My eyes are glued to her so I don't notice our danger until the big doof lands on us, knocking all three of us into the sewer water.

I surface with a sputter, fishing the flashlight out of the stream by feel. Oberon barks in surprise – and not in the human way, I mean a real, dog "woof!" sound. He hops out and Leo and Don sprint for cover as he shakes his entire frame. Mud, water, and other things fly from his fur, hitting me and… Titania.

The cat-woman looks shocked, disgusted, and tormented. She is still sitting in the sewage and looks ready to cry. She ignores the dog-man, not even snapping at him, and looks at her arms. Her grey fur is mucky and stained.

"Here," I offer gruffly. I put my arms under hers and lift her to her feet – she's tiny and very light. She's trembling so I keep my hand on her sides, just to steady her, of course.

I walk her out of the water and hand her up to Don, who pulls her onto a dry piece of pavement. Her fur drips water and other unmentionables from head to toe. Oberon looks ashamed; his head is down, tail flattened, ears hanging straight down his head. He's drawn into himself as though afraid of backlash.

Titania is silent for a minute and then seems to gather herself. She shivers, shaking more water lose without soaking anyone else, unlike Oberon's enthusiastic shaking had earlier. Then she raises one hand and starts to lick her fur.

"Don't do that!" Don yelps, grabbing her hand and pulling it away.

Titania stares at him; it's the second most open expression I've seen from her. Her face hardens. "I am cleaning myself, _Don_. May we rest a moment? I refuse to continue while covered in… this." She looks absolutely disgusted.

"We'll get you a shower back home," Leo promises. He's also turned on his flashlight; it highlights the filth in her fur when he shines it at her. "But that water is dangerous and germy."

She seems very surprised. "Showers are for humans," she says gently as though breaking bad news to someone. All four of us – Mike has descended the ladder finally, replacing the manhole cover – stare at her in shock. Noticing our looks, her eyes narrow. "Your Master allows you showers?"

"Well… yeah…" Don replies, stammering a little.

She suddenly nods as though realizing something. "Of course. You are aquatic creatures; you have no natural method of grooming. My fur requires only my attention, however." She looks like she's going to lick herself again; Don keeps hold of her hand to stop her.

"You'll get sick," he tells her seriously. "We'll get you a shower when we get home."

Her ears go back and she looks angry. "I will not suffer this filth in my fur," she states importantly.

"Yer gonna have to," I tell her, trying to support Don. She spins her head around and fixes me with a glare. _Damn_ , is it sexy. I grin back and her eyes narrow.

"We're very close," Don continues. He takes a step away, still holding her hand; she has to follow or fall over. "I'm sure Master Splinter will let you have some of his soap."

 _Titania's POV_

I reek. I have never reeked in my life. My fur stands on end no matter how often I smooth it with my hand; Don is clutching my other. I shudder continuously. _Things_ fall off me. I can't make my tail curl around my ankle like usual; it has puffed up and sticks straight out from my posterior. Oberon is following me, head down. He knows he is a _very bad boy_ right now.

Don keeps pulling me forward and I have to follow. I will not fall over again; I watch my steps carefully. Raph, despite his gruff exterior, keeps the light just in front of my feet so I can see where we are going. Despite my origin as a cat, my eyesight is closer to a human's, a fact that Master makes use of occasionally.

I am also not looking forward to a shower. I have only been forced into water once in my mutated life and I refuse to go quietly. My fur will _not_ be scrubbed like a bad dog's. As soon as we have reached their base of operations, I shall find a corner or room and clean myself. It will take hours until I feel fresh again, and it will be days before the smell is gone. I cannot work like this; any John will flee at the stink, even as nose dead as humans are.

I glare over my shoulder at Oberon, who whines and licks his nose several times. I flatten my ears; I do _not_ forgive him.

Leo, in the lead, stops at a blank wall and pushes in a brick. I am about to consider if he is crazy – if they all are – when the wall recedes and opens down the middle. A warm breath of air, smelling of incense, metal, and faintly like Master's green soap, rushes out to greet us.

 _Mike's POV_

Ah, home, sweet, home. I'm glad to get out of the stink of the sewer. I feel really bad for Oberon and Titania. The dudette is clearly disgusted and unhappy; Don is keeping hold of her hand (lucky!). Oberon looks like a dog expecting to be kicked; his head is down, tail limp, ears flattened in submission.

I glance back out of instinct, making sure we didn't leave anything behind. Coast is clear. I close the door behind us and notice Master Splinter coming out of his room. He's got great hearing.

Looking at Titania, I suddenly realize something.

She's a cat. Our esteemed, _elderly_ father is a rat who doesn't even like tiny Klunk.

They're natural enemies.

As soon as I think it, I can see the same thought hit my brothers; Don's grip on Titania tightens and Raph looks ready to jump her – and not in the sexy way – if she pounces. Leo moves towards Master Splinter, revealing our kitty in the process.

Titania looks up and spots our father.

 _Leo's POV_

I realize that we may have just stepped into the lion's den, no pun intended. Master Splinter is walking towards us; he's looking at me but he smells something he doesn't like because his grip on his cane is firm and his fur is puffy, nose twitching.

 _Oh, shell_. I move to intercept him. Unfortunately, I don't realize that this exposes Titania, who despite being covered in sewer sludge, is unmistakably a _cat_.

Master Splinter's nose stills and his eyes go wide. I _think_ he squeaks.

 _Don's POV_

I've got a good grip on Titania, but her fur is slick and wet. I see Master Splinter's expression and reach out to grab Titania's other hand, thinking that I can hold her back. She's tiny, after all; I have been practically dragging her all the way here.

She's moved before I can get as good a grip as I want to, chattering as she pounces. I see her claws extend and shout something – I think it's "No!" but I'm not sure. I think Mikey screams and I'm not sure if I do, too.

 _Oberon's POV_

I spot the hairy mutant and wuffle quietly, catching his scent and thinking about it. He smells like green soap and tea and those tiny sticks Master lights sometimes to cover a smell in a room. Master uses very powerful stuff that sometimes makes me sneeze, but this Master has only a hint of it on his fur. He's wearing a red robe with gold on the edges. I like it. And best of all, he has a wooden stick that looks like it's been chewed on before. Maybe there are other dogs here to play with. And even though it's not the lawn, I could chase that stick happily around this room. My tail begins to wag.

But then I notice Titania is in the air, pouncing for the Master. I move without thinking, barking savagely. I protect the Master, and this is _a_ Master, if not _my_ Master. I push the purple turtle aside and grab Titania's tail. She'll claw me for it, but it's the only part I can reach. I yank her back from the rat mutant.

 _Titania's POV_

My instinct is to pounce, to chase, to kill and play and maim.

Don seems to release me, but in reality I twist out of his grip and pounce. Flexing my fingers, I push out my claws. _This_ is why they are sharp, though I had only bothered to keep them trimmed in order to please any John wanting some rough play and mementos of his very expensive time with me.

Oberon jumps into action just as I do; I hear him bark and know the pain is about to come. He grabs my tail and I yowl, hissing as I turn and swat him in the muzzle. My claws are sharp; he's bleeding instantly. He barks again and I land on his chest, clawing at his thick fur. In its matted state, however, it acts like entangling armor. My claws are caught and I can feel some of them chip. I _hate_ his fur.

Then Oberon's teeth close around the scruff of my neck and he shakes me loose; I hang limply. I am powerless like this; my legs curl up, my arms freeze. My tail is the only thing that can move and it is twitching slowly. I can't even really close my own eyes.

 _Raph's POV_

It all happens so quickly that we're all left reeling. Oberon stops shaking Titania and she hangs in his mouth, limp. I think I've seen that on a show, somewhere. I hope she isn't dead. That would be a hell of a way to "save" a pair of mutants we just found.

For that matter, what the fuck.

What the _fuck_ were we thinking, bringing a _cat_ to our _rat father_ without warning either of them?

What the _fuck_ made Oberon snap to Master Splinter's defense before we, his sons and warriors in our own right, could?

And who the _fuck_ is screaming?

 _Mike's POV_

I can't stop screaming. It's stupid, but I can just imagine Titania pouncing Master Splinter like Klunk does to the small mice she can catch. And I know what she does to those poor creatures before they die. I've caught her watching one drag itself around by its front limbs, leaving a trail of slime and blood because its guts are hanging out and its hind legs have already disappeared into Klunk's stomach. I don't want to see Master Splinter like that.

Thank God the dog-man had moved so quickly. He's bleeding a bit, but he ignores it and growls at Titania. Raph knocks me over the head and I manage to shut my mouth. It's suddenly quiet except for a soft mewling coming from the cat-woman.

 _Leo's POV_

That was way too close. I don't want to know if I would have made it to my father's side in time to defend him. Master Splinter has already beat a retreat, unable to fight instinct; his door slides shut with as loud a slam as I've ever heard.

"Drop her!" Don orders loudly, turning to Oberon now that our father is safely out of sight and hopefully out of mind.

Oberon growls at Titania and then his mouth slowly opens. Titania lands on her hands and knees, shaking. She stays down, pressed to the floor, tail curled around her legs and ears flat. Oberon stands over her; the fur along his shoulders is still stiff.

"Are you okay?" I ask gently, coming over. I ask it of both of them; it's clear they are both out of sorts. I think Titania is taking the worst of it, though.

Oberon barks and grins, hackles flattening. He looks pleased with himself.

Titania mews quietly. I can't see her face and I crouch next to her. I can hear Mike pulling Oberon away, soothing the dog-man's nerves as well. If they need soothing, that is. Don kneels next to me.

"I'm sorry. We didn't think to warn you." Slowly, Titania stops shivering. She very carefully sits up, legs under her and tail wrapped firmly around them. It seems to be a defense mechanism. Her expression is carefully neutral.

"I am sorry, too," she murmurs. "I should not have tried to attack your Master." She looks at Oberon and there is no hatred or anger in her expression. Oberon grins goofily at her, apparently still her best friend despite just having bitten and shaken her. "Good boy," she tells him quietly; he whuffs in agreement, tail wagging.

Don and I exchange a glance.

 _Mike's POV_

I distract the dog-man, thinking he might try to hurt Titania. But once he's let her go, he seems to forget what he had been doing. His fur flattens back down and he's panting happily again. She calls him a "good boy" and he agrees with her.

I really do not understand what's going on, so I decide that this guy needs a shower. I always think better in a shower. And, no offense, dude, but you _reek_. It's more noticeable in our nice, clean, non-sewer-smelly lair.

"Come on," I tell Oberon. He glances at Titania, at Master Splinter's door, and whuffs again. This time he sounds indecisive. "It's time for a bath." I've gotten the feeling that he needs simpler words, almost commands.

"Go with Mike, Oberon. Good boy," Titania says. Oberon whuffs again, this time directly at her. "I will not do it again. I am sorry. Go on."

Finally, Oberon barks in agreement and heads into the lair. I trot to catch up; Raph comes with me. Oberon has no idea where he's going, so I guide him towards the downstairs bathroom by pointing at the door. I'm glad Raph's with me because this big dude could probably hurt me if he wants to.

I open the door for Oberon when he just stands in front of it. If I hadn't just had a picture of Master Splinter crawling through his own guts playing over and over in my head, it would be funny, the way the mutant stares around the bathroom. He looks in the mirror and tilts his head curiously, first one way and then the other.

Suddenly his entire body starts wagging and he jumps at the mirror, barking again. His nose hits the mirror and he rears back, startled. His posture screams indecision as he faces his reflection. He barks at himself.

"Dumb mutt," I hear Raph mutter, but there's amusement in his voice. My own grin is widening as I watch Oberon inspect his reflection. He tries to look behind the mirror and I have to stop him from ripping it from the wall.

"It's just you, dude," I tell him. I stand in front of him and point at myself. "See? I'm there and here." I wave a bit, meeting his eyes through the reflection.

"Not other dog?" Oberon asks. He sounds sad.

"No, that's just you," I reply.

Oberon's ears droop and he moves away from the mirror, beginning his inspection of the rest of the room. He explores everything – and I mean everything. He sniffs the towels, licks the sink several times, listens with ears perked to the air coming from the heating vent in the bottom of the wall, and then sniffs out the toilet. Before I can stop him, he's ducked his head into the toilet bowl and is lapping up water.

"Don't do that!" I yell, pulling back on his shoulder. I suppress a shudder. We clean our rooms when told, we even clean the bathroom when Master Splinter can't stand the smell any more – or if April comes over – but… It's not a clean place. We do our business in that thing.

Oberon whines and backs away, ears drooping again. He clearly thinks he's been bad. I sigh a little. This is why I like cats; they don't take it personally when you tell them no. If they even listen to you, they'll act like it was their idea anyway to stop drinking from the toilet bowl.

Raph is fighting back a grin as I help Oberon stand back up. I close the toilet and sit him on the lid. Then I fill a glass of water and hand it to him. He looks at in surprise, and then at me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Bath Time**

 **Raph's POV**

This is fricking funny. I kinda feel bad for the guy; clearly he hasn't been treated very well if he's drinking out of a toilet like nothing is new with that. But on the other hand, first the mirror, then this… I'm gonna chuckle for days thinking about this adventure.

Mikey is trying to show Oberon how to drink from a glass. He tries to get his tongue in and lap up water, which means the glass mostly empties onto his chest. I foresee problems in getting him to bathe himself if he can't even drink water from a glass.

"Watch me and do what I do," Mike finally suggests. He refills the glass and tilts it back. Smacking his lips and rubbing his plastron, he looks ridiculous, but apparently the dog-man gets the idea. He copies Mike and even succeeds in getting most of it in his mouth.

"Yum," he mimics my bro. "Mmmm, yummy."

I wish I had a video camera.

"Now, do you want a bath?" Mike asks. He seems to have realized that we'll pretty much be bathing this mutant. I can't decide if I hate that I followed Mike instead of staying with Titania and making Leo help with the dog mutant. I would _love_ to see her in a shower.

Oberon whines but doesn't argue. For some inexplicable reason, ignoring the tub, he lies down on the floor, stretching out. Mike and I stare at him in confusion.

"Bath?" he asks, lifting his head to look at us. He's just as confused.

This might be tricky.

 **Oberon's POV**

I don't like the mirror. It lies. I want a play mate. I haven't had one since Master put down the Schnauzer that bit a John accidentally. He hadn't meant to; he'd been going for Titania and she had just been too quick for him. Egeus won't play with me. He doesn't like me.

After figuring out that these mutants drink like humans, I realize they want me to, too. I do it to make them happy, since they didn't like it when I drank from the bowl. I'm a bad dog but I can't figure out why they haven't told me that yet.

I'm waiting for one of them to begin washing me but they're just standing there. I don't know what to do. Maybe I'm lying wrong? I try turning over.

 **Mike's POV**

Oberon rolls onto his back, presenting his matted stomach and groin. I'm not sure why; Raph and I are speechless and not sure how to fix this. It's pretty clear this mutant hasn't gotten the whole "clean the bits and pits" speech.

I can't really remember that one myself, to be honest. I mean, showering is just something I've done all my life. I don't need to think about it. In fact, I try _not_ to think about showering while I'm showering. I try to think of other things. Or I sing – though Raph calls it "caterwauling." He, of course, is jealous of my artistic talents.

Oberon's big brown eyes are confused and sad and a little wary. I think he thinks we think – did I get that right? – that he is a bad dog. He's not; he's a very good dog. I need to make sure he knows that.

"Good boy," I tell him, stepping forward. Raph lets me do my thing; I don't think he wants to try getting the giant mutant into our bathtub without some plan of action. I take Oberon's hand – his arms are hanging in the air as if he is trying to keep them out of the way – and tug him into a seated position. Then I kneel in front of him; our heads are about level.

"We do it differently," I explain, pointing at the bathtub. Oberon looks over his shoulder and tilts his head, ears perked. That's a good sign; he's interested. It's preferable to the hangdog look, at least. And yes, pun intended. "We use water and soap."

"Like humans?" Oberon asks. I can tell the idea makes him uncomfortable.

"We're not so different from them," I say quietly. Oberon snorts as if I'm joking; I'm not. This is one thing I don't joke about.

 **Raph's POV**

I may be gruff and macho and all that shit Leo doesn't think is healthy in amounts I have, but the incredulity building on Oberon's face makes me sick. He clearly thinks he is lower than a human, that he doesn't deserve to act like one. The toilet bowl thing was funny until I realized that he probably was never given a glass to drink out of before Mikey had shown him how.

I sit next to Mike as my bro struggles to explain why Oberon should shower like a human being. I'm not exactly sure how to explain it, either, mind you. But I gotta try, 'cause this poor mutt needs some serious help.

"Don't you like not itching?" I offer, noticing that Oberon has been itching at one particular spot for a while. _I hope he didn't bring in fleas_ , I think to myself.

Oberon considers the question. I doubt he's ever thought about it, since it's never seemed to be a choice with him. He finally nods.

"Wouldn't you like to not itch all over?" Mike asks, tone bright and cheerful. I can't match his happy-go-lucky style, but I'll try.

"You'll feel good," I offer as Oberon nods hesitantly. This is all it seems to take; he hops up and into the shower. Then he sits down again and Mike and I stand. He stands, too, mimicking us.

"Good boy," Mike murmurs. We've left the door open; I nudge it shut. I don't want Oberon getting out and shaking water all over our equipment and TVs… I have wrestling to watch tonight and I _know_ Don won't want to fix anything when he has new mutant DNA to do his freaky scientific crap on.

I glance at Mike and make a pumping motion with my fist. We play a quick, silent game of rock-paper-scissors. I lose and step into the bathtub behind the dog; he looks over his shoulder, down at me. It's cramped and I grumble under my breath. Immediately, the hangdog look is back and I curse myself mentally.

"It's okay," I say as nicely as I can. It's not a tone I take often. I pretend that he's a human female we've just rescued… or some shit like that.

Mike flashes me a thumbs up and turns on the water. Oberon spins around, nearly knocking us both down, as the cold water spits from the faucet. His whine is loud and annoyingly sad-sounding as the water touches his furred feet; he retreats and my shell scrapes against the far wall as I serve as a turtle bumper car.

"Good boy, it's okay," Mike murmurs. He keeps up a stream of calm, nonsensical talk; Oberon's ear twitch forward and back and he finally steps forward into the growing pool of water. I can breathe again – and, man, does this mutant stink. Up close and personal, his hair in my nostrils, I could see the fleas wandering through his fur. We're going to need Master Splinter's special flea and tick shampoo.

I let Mike know and he nods, still speaking softly and encouragingly to the dog-man. With our coaxing, Oberon kneels awkwardly. At least this way we can reach his shoulders and head easily.

"What a good boy," Mike coos as he uses the detachable shower head to wet down our pal's shoulders. Sewage slush, mud, dirt, leaves, carpet fibers, and mats of fur are already clogging the drain and we're going to need a bigger trashcan before we flood our home. We haven't even started scrubbing.

I wonder if Don and Leo are having as much _fun_ as we are.

 **Leo's POV**

Titania takes a few minutes to fully relax enough to stand up. She shivers again, one final time, and then automatically raises a loosely-clenched fist to wash herself. Don grabs her hand, interrupting the motion again. He smiles when she looks at him, surprised and a little wary.

"Let's get you showered up," he says kindly. Titania shakes her head with a hiss of discontent.

"I said I would wash myself." She seems stuck on the idea. I can hear Mike trying to explain mirrors to Oberon and glance over, but Raph has joined our youngest brother. I'm sure those two can handle the easy-going mutant. Don might need my help with Titania, however. But I also want to check on Splinter.

"I'll be right back," I mutter to Donnie. It'll probably take him a few minutes to convince Titania not to lick herself clean anyway. Don nods once and I head for our master's room. Carefully, I slide the door open and step into Master Splinter's room. His strongest incense is burning and he is kneeling in front of the low table, several candles burning.

I kneel opposite him, taking a moment in the still room to gather my thoughts. "I apologize for bringing a guest into our home without proper warning," I say softly after a few steadying breaths.

Master Splinter opens his eyes. They are kind and warm. "You are forgiven, though I never blamed you. Not intentionally, at least." He smiles slightly. I notice that his nose is still twitching. He doesn't even really like Klunk, but tolerates Mikey's pet; seeing a cat his size had probably really scared him.

"We found them in an alley. The cat mutant is named Titania; the dog is Oberon." Master Splinter nods. "I believe they have been…" I'm not sure how to explain my understanding of the two. Clearly, Titania is the alpha of the pair, unless she acts… out of turn? Unless she attacks? I don't even know. "They mentioned a "Master" that they both know. I think Oberon was… bred… to be a guardian; that's what Titania called him, anyway. She called herself a pleasurer." I'm still not sure what that means, but I have a sinking suspicion that it has to do with her stunning looks. She's definitely not modest.

Master Splinter mulls over this information in silence. "What of their behavior?"

I think about our short trip here. "Titania is very smart. Polite, but reserved. I think it's a defense against anyone getting close to her. Oberon… isn't. He's kind of like Mike, wants to make friends with everyone. He's…" I'm not sure how to say this without insulting our new guest. I shrug a bit. "He speaks simply and takes commands. He likes Titania and follows her around."

"But he did not hesitate to defend me from her." I'm surprised my father noticed in the confusion.

"I… Titania said something after you left. She called him a 'good boy' – I think that's about the best compliment he can understand." Master Splinter frowns, concentrating. "Like she wanted him to stop her. Or like he was supposed to?" It's all so confusing.

Master Splinter sighs quietly. "I sense they are both hurting more than they allow anyone, including themselves, to see, my son. Go see to our guests' comfort. Once they have bathed, eaten, and dressed, I am sure they will be more… receptive." The twitch in Master Splinter's muzzle tells me that he needs a bit of time to calm himself down, too.

"Hai, Sensei." I get up; Master Splinter stops me with a quiet clearing of his throat.

"You did well to bring them to safety, Leonardo, but be wary all the same. Even through indifference and ignorance may harm come to you and your brothers."

I nod in agreement and shut the door behind me. Titania looks over at me, ears pricked. She probably heard the whole thing. Though we have trained our own hearing, a cat's ears are naturally designed to pick up sounds in ways that our ear slits are not. Master Splinter probably knew she could hear us, too.

 **Don's POV**

Leo emerges from Splinter's room just as I've convinced Titania to let me show her to the bathroom. She's convinced that she'll just… lick herself clean. As if that was actually clean and not any sort of danger to her health. I think she believes we expect her to want privacy.

Well, we do, but not just so she can go and kill herself by ingesting the bacteria in that filthy water. Sometimes I hate living in a sewer. I just hope she lets me examine her for cuts and patch up the little spots of blood on the nape of her neck to keep infection out.

Since Mike and Raph have taken the downstairs bathroom, I lead her to the one we tend to use only rarely, on the second floor. It's cleaner, being used less often than the downstairs bathroom, and a little smaller, but she's smaller than Oberon anyway so it shouldn't be an issue.

Even dirty and upset, she cuts a striking figure. I still haven't released her hand even though she hasn't made any move to lick herself again. I like the feeling of her fur in my hand. It's soft, even when slick with sewer sludge, and I hope she lets me examine her dry fur for cuts, scrapes, and bruises.

She follows me into the bathroom; Leo enters after a short pause. He looks at the door and nudges it partially closed. I'm not sure what to expect, either, so I explain the layout to Titania.

"Towels are in here if you need more," I say quietly, opening the linen cupboard. She looks at the pile of soft towels with surprise and – is there envy there? I'm not sure what emotions flash across the cat-woman's face. "Soap, shampoo, and a washcloth are in the shower. The hot water is a little slow, so let it warm up before stepping in." I walk back over to Leo and we get ready to exit.

Titania snorts, sits down on the toilet, and immediately begins licking herself. _Again_.

"Stop!" I cry, snatching her hand again. Her claws are sharp but my hide protects me. "We just went over this!" I'm a little frustrated, sure; even Mikey wouldn't forget that discussion between two floors of the lair.

Titania draws herself up, her hand slipping from my grasp. She places her hand in her lap, however, looking at me with a glint in her eye. "I shall not be subjected to a water bath," she spits angrily. I glance at Leo, lost. I thought she had agreed to this!

 **Titania's POV**

I am beginning to think these terrapins are less intelligent than they first appeared. Don has continuously insisted that I bathe _in water_ , as though I was not perfectly capable of washing myself. He looks a little lost, though, so I take pity on him.

"I have not bathed in water since my creation bath," I explained patiently. Seeing the lack of comprehension on his face, I try to think of speaking to Oberon. "Remember, when Master created you and brought you forth from your pod? He bathed me in water and then instructed me in my art." I remember my elder sisters teaching me to wash myself, afterwards. The water was unpleasant; their rasping tongues had been more pleasant, but nothing was better than the calming stroke of my own tongue on my own fur. Cleaning new sisters was a duty, but not one I enjoyed.

Hermia still has issues with washing and thus I am often forced to spot-clean her as well. Sometimes Master watches us or has me clean her most intimately in front of a special selection of Johns and guests. Sometimes he orders her to wash me, though I _always_ wash her smell from my fur as soon as possible afterwards.

These two turtles are still clueless. _Maybe turtles don't take baths after emerging_ , I think to myself. The only mutants I have personally conversed with are cats, dogs, a parrot, and a pair of ferret brothers. Those two had been a disaster; they stank daily, left droppings all over the base, never paid attention, and never listened to orders. Oberon had eventually shaken both to death on Master's orders. I had watched, along with my sisters; we learned the price of disobedience in this way.

"We don't… remember being mutated," Don explains quietly.

Ah. I pity him. "I am sorry." I have heard that it can happen – some mental deficiency, leading to imperfect memory forming. Some cases were worse than others. Two guardians before Oberon, there had been a poodle, Lafeu, unable to remember any names; he knew only smells. He called me Spicy. I liked the nickname, but Master had had him put down within a few weeks of his emergence due to his lack of personality. Master likes his pets to be personable with our guests and Johns. Oberon is his best success yet; the dog's happy-go-lucky, eager-to-please nature made him the perfect first face for a guest to see when entering the base.

"We grew up like this," he continues. That is very interesting. I had done _some_ growing outside of the pod, but most of it had been within it, dead to the world. Otherwise, Master had once explained within my excellent hearing range, there were complications with development and instinctual behavior. I had emerged almost fully grown and a "blank slate" upon which to impress an art and duty.

"Does your Master often allow his pets to be removed before achieving full growth?" I ask, curious.

I see the shock in Don's eyes and turn to Leo to see it there, too. "We're… We're not pets," Leo says. Something in his voice breaks and he looks away.

"Guards," I correct myself, smiling. "I apologize."

Don is shaking his head. His hand is still holding mine; he seems to be clutching it now. "What he means is, _none of us_ are pets. Not me, not Leo… Not you."

I raise an eyebrow elegantly. "Does your Master prefer a different term?"

"He calls us his sons," Leo murmurs. My ears and eyes flick to him in surprise.

"He allows such familiarity?" Perhaps this Master wants a daughter, too.

 **Don's POV**

I can hear the honest confusion in Titania's voice and… I don't know what to make of it. I'm confused. I'm sad for her and Oberon. At the same time, I feel this burning rage that her Master had so obviously neglected his duty to her.

Another thought hits me. When we hear "master," we think of ninjutsu. Sensei is as much our father as our leader, as much our confidant and caretaker as our drill master and teacher. Perhaps less of a caretaker these days, with his advancing age and subsequent aches, but the sentiment is there.

I glance at Leo and then back to Titania. I lick my lips, trying to figure out how to ask my next question. "Titania… Who is your Master?"

Her left ear flicks back and then forward again. I think it's a sign of confusion. "He is a human. He made us in order to serve him." I look down, fighting back tears. "We service his guests, entertain his Johns…" My heart breaks a little. "Oberon protects him and keeps us from behaving poorly."

 **Titania's POV**

"There are more of you?" Leo asks. His voice is quiet and there is something under it that makes my fur puff up. My ears drift downwards in submission; I stubbornly force them upright again.

"I am the eldest of the pleasurers," I announce, preening a little. "My sisters are Aemilia, Hermia, and Hippolyta. Our guard is Oberon. I do not know if Master has decided to keep Lysander and Egeus." Those two had not learned their duties as well as the rest of us. I know Master is planning on another Newfoundland mutant, seeing the success he had with Oberon, but the servant position is traditionally filled by a feathered creature of some sort. For my part, I hope he chooses a canary and lets me eat it when it displeases him.

"Are your sisters… like you?"

I sit up a little straighter, haughty. I am _eldest_. I am _best_. Why does this terrapin not understand this? "Of course not." I sense him relax. "Aemilia is quite new to the art; she panics sometimes, when pleasuring a group of Johns. And she's a two-way mutant; Russian blue and poodle. I think it made her timid." Not that that is Master's fault, at all, of course. Some pets simply don't come out right, I overheard his scientists explaining to him. I, of course, came out _perfectly_. Well, so far as they know, anyway. But I don't want to brag and I ignore the tension in Don's hand. "Hippolyta is a Norwegian forest cat; Master claims she is purebred but I have my doubts. She is too thick to be properly pleasing. Hermia is a husky; pleasant enough, I suppose, if all one wants is a quick fuck." I hear Leo gasp and Don seems to be choking on something.

"Does… Your Master… He makes you… Um…" Don is stumbling over his words. I look down at him.

"That _is_ what a pleasurer does," I reply, arching an eyebrow. This terrapin must have brainstorms; they are said to cloud the mind and make the pet unable to think. I never get them. Like I said, I am _perfectly_ bred. Master may even choose to hang my pelt in his room, when I have displeased him for the last time. "What does your base do?" Maybe that will explain these poorly bred mutants.

Don drops my hand and then puts his head in his hands. I can hear him crying, though he tries to suppress it. I look at Leo, confused. Leo's eyes are hard but there is such sadness there that, for a moment, I feel doubt. Am I in the wrong here?

 **Leo's POV**

I can't imagine… I am speechless. Rage, sorrow – there aren't words strong enough to explain what I am feeling. And this poor woman is staring at me as if _I_ have been raped all my life instead of her.

I kneel next to Don quickly, slinging an arm around my brother as his shoulders shake. He's the gentlest of us, but he can't possibly misunderstand what our guest has been blithely telling us. With my other hand, I take Titania's. Her hands are tiny, filled with fragile bones; both are engulfed by my thick fingers.

"We'll save them," I promise quietly, both to her and to Don. He hiccups in agreement.

But then Titania huffs, one ear flicking. "Of course, I meant to bring my sisters when Oberon and I left. He left them behind."

I look up in surprise. "Why were you running?" I ask. Maybe this is the answer to beginning to help her heal. We still haven't convinced her to bathe – in water, not saliva – but it seems unimportant now.

For the first time, Titania looks uncomfortable. She squirms and looks around as if looking for eavesdroppers. "I fear that… I am not as perfect as Master had hoped." She looks into her lap, eyes unfocused. I wait patiently; silence is often a better way to get someone to speak than questions. She finally looks up again, meeting my eyes. There is a challenge there. "It is for my kittens that I left."

I rock back in surprise, glancing automatically to her stomach. I don't even care that her breasts are right there; I'm more stunned that a mutant is fertile.

 **Don's POV**

I hear Titania's announcement and look up in shock. My eyes are still sore and my throat hurts from holding back sobs at the thought of what this beautiful woman and her companions have lived through without even knowing the abuse being done to them. But her words make me forget that.

"You're pregnant?" I ask. She is, of course; she just said so. Her disdainful look at me makes it clear that she won't repeat herself just so I can wrap my head around this whole thing. Still, a fertile mutant… The odds are impossibly huge, yet here she is.

As I'm looking at her, I realize we _still_ haven't managed to get her into a shower. I tramp down my hundreds of questions, each one popping out a litter of its own questions, and clear my throat. Leo removes his arm from around me.

"Well, our first job is to get you cleaned up," I tell Titania. "And I mean in a water bath, not by licking yourself. You'll get sick – that won't help your kittens at all." Appealing to a mother's instinct to protect her babies can be dangerous, but I risk it. Titania puts her ears back, angry again, but I see some waver in her eyes. "We'll make it quick; once most of it is gone, you can wash yourself all you like. But I want to make sure you don't get any infections."

Titania thinks it over for a long moment; I wait, holding my breath. Finally, she nods once, sharply. I can tell she is not pleased but my appeal to her maternal instincts won out where her missing common sense would not.

She looks uncomfortable, however. I think she is starting to grasp how very different our… upbringings… have been. "I… do not know how to wash with water," she admits in a whisper. It's almost as if she can't figure out if she should be embarrassed or not.

Initially, I blush, but after all, this _is_ something a doctor does occasionally. I've washed all of my brothers at one point in our lives. Leo's flu had left him too weak to stand when he was four, and his fever had drenched him and the sheets in night sweats every night. I had been the one to wash him in the tub while our father changed out the old, patchy linens. Raph had knocked himself out on a ledge when we were twelve and bled all over everyone; I had washed him off then, too, though he didn't like to think about my gently scrubbing crusty blood from under his shell where it had pooled. And Mike had needed it when he had come down with a terrible infection; fever and pain pills (stolen from an unlucky but well-stocked drug dealer) had made him practically useless in any basic tasks. And Leo and Raph have both bathed me; when I had broken my leg and couldn't safely get in and out of the high-walled tub and then when I had fallen to a similar flu as Leo but left me shaking with cold so badly I couldn't grip a bar of soap, let alone walk.

"I'll show you," I promise, smiling gently. I want Titania to know that we will protect her, will help her to heal from this abuse she's suffered, even if she doesn't seem to realize that something desperately _needs_ healing.

There's a spark of mischievous amusement in her eyes and I am glad to see it. She stands when I do, though her fur is slicked down with apprehension and her tail will not stop twitching.

"I'll be just outside," Leo murmurs. He leaves the room and closes the door softly behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Bath Time, Part 2**

 **Leo's POV**

I lean against the wall heavily. I'm not sure who to talk to first – Oberon, to see if his story is the same? Master Splinter, to get his insight and advice? Raph and Mike, to plan a rescue of our fellow mutants?

My choice is made for me when Raph comes up the stairs. He's still damp but in a cheerful mood, for him. At the look on my face, though, he stops cold.

"Did it go that badly?" he asks, concerned. I shake my head, then look at the bathroom door and nod slowly.

"Um… Let's go talk in the dojo." I head for the stairs; Raph's right behind me. "Where's Mikey?"

"He's showing Oberon the guest room and getting him settled in. It took a while to get him to understand what we wanted. It's a good thing he's so…"

"Obedient?" I ask, grounding out the word. His friendly nature seemed at first innocent; now I realize it is sinisterly so.

Raph makes a puzzled sound of agreement. We come to the dojo and kneel, facing each other in our customer positions. Raph is slightly to my left. Slowly, with several pauses as I try to find the words, I summarize what Titania told us. I leave out the part about her pregnancy; she will reveal that to him herself.

 **Raph's POV**

I listen, but it's like the words are all around me, suffocating me. I can't breathe. There's red in my vision and it narrows. I ain't just mad; I'm fuckin' _pissed_.

Sure, we might not know these two, but they're family, in some twisted way. We're animal-human mutants, hybrids, freaks; if nothing else, that would make me want to help them. But the fucked up things they've done and had done to them all their lives? That makes me want to find this Master human and beat _him_ like a bad dog.

A very, very bad dog.

Once Leo is done, it takes me several long, slow breaths to slow my heart beat down again. "If it's so _natural_ , why'd they fuckin' leave?" I growl.

Leo doesn't even reprimand me for my language. I realize he agrees, in his own way, with how furious I am. But he shakes his head. "Titania will have to tell you that herself. It's her secret to tell. But it's a good reason. We need to protect her."

"And the rest of 'em," I agree. "When do we leave?"

"That's the issue. We don't know where they are. Titania probably knows, but she needed to get clean and Don needs to examine her." I nod without prodding. I'm already considering what kind of gear to take. Leo's definitely going to sharpen his throwing knives as soon as we leave the dojo.

"What do we tell Mike?" I ask, debating between throwing stars and caltrops.

"How about the truth?" Mike asks from the doorway. He's teary and it's clear he's heard most, if not all, of the story. It speaks to how distracted I am that I missed his entrance. "Is… Is it really…?"

I nod sharply. "It's really that bad."

Mike wanders over to us and kneels next to me. I pull him into a rough hug. He needs it.

 **Mike's POV**

Hearing Leo's soft tone as he spoke had originally drawn my curiosity because he and Raph hadn't been sparring, which they usually did while they talk. When I had slipped the dojo door open and could hear the words, I kind of wished I hadn't. But on the other hand, I _needed_ to know.

Oberon had fallen asleep as soon as I had him dried off, not even waiting for dinner. He was still in the guestroom, lying curled on the floor despite inviting him onto the bed. He hadn't been sure if a good dog jumped on the furniture even when allowed.

I really like Oberon; he's funny and charming. Not very witty, but his honest good will is enough for me. And he's a dog mutant; he'll eat _anything_ I can cook. I can finally try some of the more out-there recipes I've been wanting to test.

But that is going to have to wait, because right now I want to find this Master and drag _his_ nose through a puddle like a bad puppy. Preferably _before_ Raph gets his mitts on the bastard, since he won't survive a round with my hothead brother.

"When do we leave?" I ask. My voice is harder than usual; I feel Raph shift a bit. It's not usual for me to _ask_ to get into a fight, but I think I'm allowed in this instance.

"That's my line," Raph says. I glare at him, both for the lame attempt at humor and for the interruption. His mouth snaps shut; I'm impressed. Mad Mikey is a badass.

"Immediately. We need to get Titania and Oberon settled, but we cannot leave the rest to suffer for longer than we must." Leo's got his leader face turned up high. He's already considering angles of attack, lines of defense, plans for retreat. I let him plan; that's what he does.

"Then I'd better get some food for them," I say, standing. Raph gets up as well, muttering something about checking the car. We'll save our energy for the fight and drive to the location. It's up to Leo to figure out where we're going, too.

I wonder what Oberon likes to eat. Then I realize he's probably never been asked that, much less had his opinion consulted as to the perfect balance of gravy and chicken. That decides me. He's getting something special. I head for the kitchen, as serious in my own way as though going into battle.

 **Don's POV**

Some corner of my mind is firmly entrenched in the sewers and makes observations that have nothing at all to do with examining my new patient. "I'm going to turn on the water," I warn Titania. She nods; I turn the spigot. The sound of water makes her flinch and her ears go back, but she holds my hand – _fur, so soft_ – and stays put. I test the temperature with one finger, waiting patiently for it to warm.

"First, we'll rinse off the biggest stuff," I explain as we wait for the water to warm. "Then we'll work on anything that's stuck. Do you like-" I stop. I almost asked if she wanted soap or shampoo; she's never had either. Titania waits for me to finish. Her posture is tense and she seems… scared. _Hug her, comfort her,_ that insipid little voice murmurs. "We'll go with a shampoo first, and soap for your thinner fur," I decide. The water's warmed up.

First, though, I turn to look Titania in the eye, very serious. I take both of her hands gently, my grip as light as possible. I want her to know that she is _not_ under any sort of orders around here. "We can take as long as you like. If you want to stop, just say so."

Titania nods a bit; her eyes are wide and the whites are bigger than usual, indicating that she is scared. Her tail has puffed up and sticks out stiffly from her rear. Trying to comfort her, I run my hand along her upper arm. _Such soft fur, I love it._ She glances at me and then back at the bathtub; I let her take her time.

"Let's make this fast," she finally says. She steps into the bathtub and hisses immediately with displeasure, ears flat down. But, bravely, she stands still. Either that or she's frozen in place.

I know she wants it over with as soon as possible so I detach the shower head – thank goodness I put those in years ago to help us clean up after a fight! – and aim the water at the worst of the spots. The drain quickly plugs; I scoop it out and onto the side of the bathtub several times before I am content that the worst of it is gone from the feline's fur. Titania has her eyes pressed shut and her arms hugging her chest, ears pinned flat. _Step in and rub her back that_ little voice suggests tauntingly. I ignore it as any professional would.

"Take a deep breath," I say gently, matching my breathing to hers and slowly lengthening our breaths. "Do you want to scrub yourself?" _No, let me, let me,_ it begs.

Titania stiffly nods and holds out her hand; I squeeze some shampoo into her palm. I let the water run straight down the drain as she quickly and jerkily rubs suds into her front, arms, and legs. She doesn't touch her neck or face.

"Titania, I'm going to need to clean your face and back, too," I say softly. Titania makes a soft, pitiful mewling sound but closes her eyes again and seems to be waiting; with one hand, as gently as possible, I apply soap to the thin fur of her face and rub suds into her head, neck, and back fur. _This is as good a setup as any porno,_ the voice snickers.

I start at her head and run the water over her. Titania keeps her eyes shut and only moves when I gently pull her arms apart to make sure they are clean. As I rinse her off, I keep my eye out for any injuries, but other than a few old, tiny scars on her neck where Oberon has probably bitten her before and the new ones from meeting Master Splinter, I see nothing alarming. Well, other than a few bruises which could speak to a nutritional deficiency and, of course, her skinniness. Without the padding of fur, her ribs, hips, and joints stand out more.

 _I need prenatal vitamins,_ I think to myself. I'll have April pick some up. _And some kitten food, in case…_ In case one of far too many possible disasters befalls us. Titania could die in labor. She could die from infection or blood loss. Even if she survives, she could reject her litter or be unable to produce milk.

Finally, it's done; I turn off the water and Titania is out of the bathtub and across the room before I can attach the nozzle back to the wall. She's frantically shaking out the water and hugging herself. Moving slowly and carefully, I offer her a towel; she looks at it for a long moment before taking it in one slim hand and wrapping it carefully around herself. I hand her a smaller one and motion to her head; she understands and begins to vigorously rub that dry, too.

I start to open the door when her clawed hand on my arm stops me. "Thank you," Titania murmurs, almost too quietly to hear. Smiling, I put my hand over hers.

"You're welcome. You're safe here. When you're ready, come downstairs for some food."

She nods and goes back to drying off. She's still a little dirty, but I've left her enough to wash herself without feeling cheated by our deal.

The mood downstairs is heavy; I could cut the tension with Raph's blunt sai. Mikey is in the kitchen; I'm not sure if he's cooking or has made an impromptu drum set out of the cupboard and pots and pans. Raph is in the dojo, gathering his equipment for what looks like a heavy raid. I assume he's preparing for our upcoming rescue mission. Leo's probably speaking to Splinter.

 **Titania's POV**

I hate water. Even getting splashed makes me angry. The towels help to dry my fur and clean it further; I sit on the floor and start on my hands and arms. I wash them carefully, smoothing the fur and nibbling at any clumps. I will have a hairball soon.

Then I concentrate on my face, washing my hands and then rubbing my face and head. I can't quite reach everywhere with my tongue and hands, but I am much more flexible than the average human and manage.

When finished, I am still damp from the water. I stand again, curling my tail around my ankle and examining my face and belly in the mirror for any imperfections. Noticing a couple of spots that need attention, I chew out a knot and smooth it down.

Finally, I am ready to face my hosts. I feel clean again, though I smell like the shampoo that Don had given me. It smells of strawberries, but not real ones – more like the strawberry jam Master enjoys on his toast some mornings. My stomach grumbles and I remember that I am hungry.

Leaving the room, I notice that the base is quiet. I hear Oberon kicking in his sleep on the lower floor; he is in a room. Today has tired him; I am ready for a nap of my own. But first, I will find out what provisions are provided to pets.

 _They call themselves sons,_ I remind myself, walking to the head of the stairs. I touch the railing; it is cold metal and scratched with use.

On my way in, I had not taken the time to look around our new accommodations. The door through which we entered is shut, keeping the warmth in and the smell of the sewers out. I am pleasantly surprised to find that the sewage smell is very faint inside. To the right of the door are three wooden doors and an open doorway. There are sounds coming through the open door, metal striking metal and occasionally a _ding!_ noise as well as a heavy door opening and then closing once. From the smell, they prepare meals there.

The next door over has no handle but a groove; it slides into the wall as I watch. The rat Master emerges and I hold myself still despite the soft chatter that tries to break from my mouth. Over his brown fur, he is wearing a brown kimono, trimmed in gold ribbon, and walks stiffly, left hand braced against a cane. He looks quite old; his mouth fur is greying and his bushy eyebrows are not particularly neat. His long ears end in sparse tufts of grey hair. He is quite animalistic and not very well bred; the only indication of his mutation is his size, clothing, stance, and obvious intelligence. He holds his tail above the ground behind him.

The next two doors are closed; they appear to have handles and open in the more usual way. Behind one, my sensitive ears catch the sounds of loud music. I suspect someone is in that room.

I cannot see what lies under the short "balcony" upon which I stand; it juts out over the main floor for several feet. Likely there is space underneath for relaxation as well as working rooms. I wonder if there is a vacant one into which I can move.

To the right of the main door is a large living area with a pair of well used couches and one battered arm chair. They are hideous and not well coordinated; it looks as though this base is furnished from a junk yard. Master always buys only the best furniture for his Johns. Sometimes I catch a nap on the warm, soft bed on which I service my Johns. Sometimes they like to think they sneak up to wake me, a fantasy which I indulge.

There is a large TV in front of the couches. That must be where the Master entertains his guests before having his servant show them to one of us. It is off for now, and there are no humans on the couches, so the base must be closed. Or, judging by the run-down look of the place, perhaps they have no guests.

Next to that is a large wooden table, rectangular, with seven mismatched chairs sitting around it. That must be what passes for a dining room in this place. There is, again, the theme of a junkyard, though everything looks decently clean at least.

Perhaps I should go back to Master. At least his base is beautiful and attracts guests.

I turn around, examining the second floor. There are four doors here, each one with a handle and several strange symbols above each frame. They smell like each of the turtles in turn; the farthest to my left is Leo's, then Don's, then Mike's, and finally Raph's. I hear someone moving around in Don's room but decide not to interrupt the terrapin.

Back on the main floor, the Master has spotted me. His face fur is raised, indicating that he is tense, but he does not exude fear scent. Curious, I walk down the stairs and over to him. Kneeling slowly and then lowering my head to the floor, I silently beg his forgiveness.

 **Leo's POV**

Coming out of the kitchen – Mike practically banished me until he finishes cooking dinner for our guests – I spot Titania kneeling in front of Master Splinter. As I watch, she leans forward until her face is on the ground, ears pressed down in submission. Her face is inches from my father's clawed toes.

Master Splinter immediately crouches, setting his cane aside. "My child, you need not beg an old rat forgiveness for what was not your fault," he says gently, smiling. He carefully lifts her head; she looks up at him. There is surprise and wary mistrust in her face before she smooths out her expression.

"I beg it anyway, Master," she murmurs softly, ears still pressed down. She is looking down, anywhere but meeting his gaze.

"Then you may consider it given freely and without reluctance," Master Splinter says. He draws the cat-woman to her feet and I quickly walk over to brace his elbow as he tries to pick up his cane. His earlier fright probably made his joints ache again; I hope he took some Tylenol or something.

"Thank you, my son," he says quietly, gripping his cane again. Titania looks shocked – and a little envious – at the confirmation of what I had said earlier. He looks at the cat woman again, smiling gently. We can both sense how confused the cat-woman is. "My name is Splinter, child. Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, and Michelangelo are my sons; I raised them as my own once I became aware of our changes." She tilts her head to one side, listening intently. "Let us sit; Leonardo, please bring Ms. Titania some tea."

"Hai, Sensei," I say softly. I already have the kettle on to boil; it will only be a few moments to prepare tea. But I'm not sure that I like leaving Titania alone with my father.

Sensei senses my hesitation and pats my arm. "It is alright, my son; we will wait in the living room." I nod reluctantly and go to the kitchen. I hear Master Splinter lead Titania over to the couches.

When I come back with the tea tray, Titania is sitting stiff-backed on the couch while Master Splinter has taken his usual seat in the armchair. I put down the tray and serve Master Splinter first, adding a half-packet of sugar and stirring it in with the small spoon. Then I offer a cup to Titania, who looks at it and then at me in confusion.

 **Titania's POV**

The cup has hot tea in it; Leo waits patiently until I carefully take it from him. It is a small cup, decorated with tiny blue birds. The smell of the tea is pleasant and not overpowering. I notice there is also a pitcher of cream on the tray but do not allow myself more than a single glance at it.

Leo must have noticed the glance as he picks it up and offers it to me. I am so confused, though I try to be polite. Am I supposed to drink the tea or the cream?

"Would you like cream in your tea?" Leo asks softly. I realize his intention and tilt my head.

"I have never tried it," I explain. It sounds pleasant, however, and I nod. Leo pours a small amount of cream into the tea, turning the dark liquid into a lighter green color. I glance over; the Master is sipping from his cup. Leo sits next to me, leaving a little space between us, maybe thinking I want that, and takes up his own cup. He stirs a little sugar into it and sips from his cup as well. Politely, I take a discreet sniff of mine to see if it is drugged; I cannot smell anything in it, so I let my tongue taste it.

It is one of the best things I have tasted. The cream is warm from the tea, the tea is pleasantly scented. I lap up a little, quietly, and it runs down my throat, leaving warmth behind. I let my eyes drift shut as I continue lapping up the delicious tea.

 **Leo's POV**

She's lapping at it, but then again, she _is_ a cat. At least she seems to like it; her eyes are closed and she's not quite as tense as before. I watch her as I drink my own tea. It's a green blend, nothing special, though Master Splinters has a little lemon in it with his sugar. It brewed a little too long because Mike asked me to help him by taking out a cake from the oven, but thankfully it's an herbal and therefore didn't get bitter.

I finish my cup and set it down; the movement seems to wake Titania and she opens her eyes. She seems immediately worried and looks carefully at Master Splinter, curling her tail around her knees in that defense gesture again.

"I hope you enjoy your tea," Master Splinter says before she can try to apologize or something.

"It is excellent," Titania responds in a murmur. "I particularly like the addition of cream."

"It's European," I explain. "They drink milk in their tea. I thought…" Wait, I don't want to stereotype her! She might be a cat but could have hated cream for all I knew. Open mouth, insert foot.

 **Titania's POV**

He smiles a little at me. "I enjoy cream. Master rarely allows us treats. Though the crunchies are good, too." I think about the little packets of chicken, wrapped in a crunchy shell. Master sometimes tosses them to us and has us fight over them.

"Are you hungry?" Leo asks. He seems confused when I tilt my head; he looks at the rat Master. I have never been asked that. I am fed on a schedule, after all. Master sometimes teases us by holding back a meal and then dangling a crunchy in front of our noses without letting us have it; maybe he is teasing me. I try not to pin back my ears at him; he could beat me if Master Splinter lets him.

"I am hungry," I agree when he seems to be waiting for an answer. He stands up and I move to follow him, but Master Splinter shakes his head gently and I guiltily sit back down.

"Leonardo, please fetch something for our guest while I speak with her," Master Splinter orders. Although, listening to his tone and looking at his posture, it is not an order but a request. Is there really a difference when coming from a Master, though?

"Hai, Sensei." I am curious as to what that means; it seems to be an agreement as Leo moves towards the kitchen.

"Child." I look at Master Splinter. His tone is gentle and as kind as I've ever heard. It still takes me by surprise and I struggle with how I should respond. Is he trying to be nice? Is he trying to lure me into a trap? I do not know. "Ms. Titania, will you tell me of your life?" Again, his tone is like a request, but of course it is an order… Right?

He senses my hesitation and confusion and leans forward, patting my knee. I automatically shift to open my legs, thinking he wants to inspect me. This, however, causes a rather interesting response; instead of moving forward, Master Splinter quickly draws back, surprised and… scared? Or is the catch of breath a sign of displeasure? I close my legs again. Something tickles at the back of my throat and I cough to clean it, looking down.

 _Master Splinter's POV_

This poor child… Her obvious distress and confusion tug at my heart. I tried to comfort her, but she mistook my intentions, I believe. We are both trying to figure out what the other wants. I do not know how to express to this poor woman that I want nothing from her than she has been forced to give before. I simply want to put her at ease. But, ironically, it seems that my own goodwill is confusing and scaring her.

Still staring at her cup of tea – after her initial drink, she has not tasted it again – she begins to speak.

"I am a British Shorthair," she murmurs. "Master created me to please his guests when my predecessor, Julia, displeased him enough to have his guard shake her to death. He taught me how to give pleasure, in body and mind. Well, technically, I guess my older sisters did – Lucetta, Silvia, and Valentine. I am now the eldest; my sisters are Aemilia, Hermia, and Hippolyta. Oberon, the Newfoundland, is our guard."

I sense that the dog-man, Oberon, takes on the role of prison guard more than guardian of the four sisters. He was certainly quick to protect me from Titania.

"Master entertains many humans. My sisters and I tend to their physical needs; I also provide mental stimulation, as necessary. Lysander serves them – he is a macaw – when they require anything. Egeus is very new; he was supposed to replace Oberon. But Oberon is well bred, so I think Master will have him kill Egeus instead and start over."

It hurts my heart that a human is forcing mutants to… service… humans and kill each other when they displease him. From the soft voice and bland tone, however, Ms. Titania seems to think her report is nothing unusual.

It takes her a moment to find her next words. I sense that she struggles with how to tell me a secret.

"I… left… because I am not perfectly bred," she finally admits in a whisper. Ms. Titania says it in the same tone of voice that Leonardo uses when he finds himself at fault for some injury that befalls his brothers. I realize it is shame that colors the young woman's voice, but she seems unused to the feeling and looks uncomfortable.

"What do you mean?" I ask softly when she is quiet for several long moments. I think she has forgotten the cooling tea in her hands.

"I have become… pregnant," she finally murmurs.

I look quickly down, automatically, to her stomach. Her six breasts had caught me by surprise before, and I should have asked Leonardo to bring her something to cover herself with, but her obvious comfort with being naked had stopped me. She does not appear to be enlarged yet; I hope she is healthy enough to bear children. I will ask Donatello to tend to her and provide medical support, if she allows it.

 **Titania's POV**

I have spoken my secret and wait for this new Master to order Oberon to shake me to death. Mutants cannot breed; it an unspoken law. No, more than a law. It is holy words, a religion, an unannounced _truth_.

We're not animals, we're not humans. Only those can breed. We… I… am nothing.

But the kittens growing inside me made me want to be something. Anything. Even a filthy alley cat would be better than putting them in danger. I would have accepted my death if it would not have killed my kittens.

My shoulders hunch as I prepare for death, for Oberon's teeth closing over my neck. I quickly put down the cup, realizing it is still in my hands; I do not want to break it. It is beautiful, I realize, despite the tiny chip in the rim.

My vision swims and I wonder if Oberon already has me and I am dying. Perhaps it is a painless act. But then I realize that it is tears that obscure my eyes, not brain death.

Then, through the blur, I see Master Splinter kneeling stiffly before more and he is not angry. His paws take up my hands and he is squeezing them gently. I feel one of the turtle's heavy hands on my shoulder and tense without thinking. Of course. Rather than allowing Oberon to shake me, Master Splinter will order one of his own terrapin guards to kill me.


	5. Chapter 5

All further updates will be made on Archive of Our Own, under the name KoriatCyredanthem.


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